


revolving

by try_reset (technorat)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Loss of Limbs, M/M, Millicent the cat - Freeform, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technorat/pseuds/try_reset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmates are predestined and determined by the Force.</p><p>In which, General Hux believes the Force is terribly, terribly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

There had been a time when General Hux had not been a general and had not yet been known simply as Hux; he had been a small boy by the name of Brendol—the same name his father bore, in the feverish hope of keeping the grandeur of the Hux name alive. He was Brennie to some, Dolly to fewer--on account of how he resembled a porcelain doll, with his pale, delicate skin and long red hair.

He had become just Hux at the tender age of seven.

It had been an accident, really.

Nobody had meant to shoot him on the hunting trip to some miserable, backwater planet. Either he had gotten in the way or there had been something wrong with the gun or perhaps it had just been destined, decreed by the Force, Hux is no longer sure of his memories. It didn't really matter. The reason did not change the result.

His leg had come clean off.

Remarkably, he had not lost consciousness.

The hunting game had been called off. Hux remembers the pointed look of disappointment on his Father's face. Truly, Father enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. To take down local wildlife and bring home their skin as prizes.

There were no prizes that time. Nobody would want to keep a young boy's leg.

He had been taken to a hospital on a nearby, more civilized planet for immediate care.

The younger Hux had been called brave by kindly doctors and staff; bitter and alone, Hux did not believe them. His father, the Admiral, was the reason for his preferential treatment. Those doctors had wanted to gain the Admiral's approval and perhaps even fondness, trying to keep their little ward ahead of others.

That isn't how it works, Hux had known, even back then. The Admiral does not award people for doing their jobs.

Besides, it was not as if they had reattached the leg. The limb was lost to Hux forever, left on that backwater planet he so bitterly came to despise. No helping it, his Father's wife had said. She was not _his_ mother and Hux would not call her that. She was the one to visit him while he recovered in the strange, foreign planet and the only one present when he had been transported to a more local one.

All that had kept him going was the simple name printed onto his wrist: _Ben_. Sometimes—he would never admit it, not that he had someone to admit it to—he would dream of his soulmate, systems away, and of his soulmate's comfort, sent to him through shared dreams.

Dolly had deeply desired to have someone all to himself, had deeply desired true love and the Force's almost _magical_ blessing.

Brendol Hux II learned better. He thought it best to rid himself of those foolish delusions.

Those comforting dreams grew more and more infrequent with time.

•

 

It was his Father who suggested that he enter the Academy. Though it was said so casually at the dinner table, Hux knew that he could not say no. The Admiral and his wife were growing old; the Admiral's hair was already growing white with age. Brendol Hux II was needed to continue in his father's footsteps, continue to make the Hux name live on in the First Order. And, in time, Hux and his betrothed would need to create the next generation of Hux, and they too would continue on in the same way.

His father, did not mention the soulmark on the inside of his left wrist. Lately, those of the First Order were having their names erased. Hux's sleeves covered both wrists. Still, he had to check to make sure, to make sure that it was still hidden from prying eyes.

If his Father noticed the glance, he did not bring it up either.

His Father's wife glanced worriedly at her spouse, lower lip quivering for a moment. She thinks him weak. It was because she had been the one to see to him when he was still recovering. It was because she saw him in his lowest moment. Those times had stuck with the woman, who did seem to care, grudgingly, for the boy that was not hers.

Hux's prosthetic leg is of the most modern technology. It's light and functions just as well as his leg would have if it had not been shot off, as Hux regularly points out. Hux received updates for it frequently, so that it matched up with his height and so that he had all the latest improvements. Puberty caused him to grow and grow and it felt like he would never stop, going through many adjustments for the leg.. Soon, he had begun to tower over his Father's wife.

And yet, Father was Hux's height, but much more broad in the shoulders, much more muscular. Hux did not once believe that he would have his father's overpowering figure. He was resigned to his fate of sticking with clothing that made him appear more menacing than he actually was.

Hux had to hide his prosthetic at the Academy— _learned_ to hide it and anything else someone could mistake for a weakness. ( _Including those phantom pains that brought him agony, seemingly at random intervals._ )

He decided, back in the first hospital that had treated him, so long ago, that he _would not_ accept those pitiful looks, full of contempt.

Never again.

Those who discovered the leg had always taken it as some sort of deficiency, a fault. A few students had assumed that Hux was frail once they discovered the limb and because of that, Hux had been given the advantage at the killing of close rivals.

He had earned his spot at the Academy through his merit, not through his bloodline, as they had assumed.

Still, it was the first kill that was the hardest.

That student who had seen him in the shared fresher had not expected death to come so soon. He had died quickly, blood staining the tiled floors for only a moment before water washed it away.

The killing was necessary to weed out the weak, the professors had told them all. Hux did not doubt it.

His class had been small to begin with. Those that had survived the final test had killed at least one other student. Those who had survived, alongside Hux, had not known each other very well. They had learned _fear_ of Hux, of course; his kills were almost clean, efficient. Who would not be afraid of someone so young, so ruthless? None of them dared approach him, not even in their shared sleeping chamber, where a number of deaths had occurred—none of those messy ones had been committed by Hux; he looked back at those murders scornfully.

The night before the official graduation ceremony, his soulmark seemed to _burn._

Curled up, he clutched at his forearm. Hux was determined to not make a sound; he could not have someone see him in this moment of weakness. Could not have them lose their opinion of him, after so many years spent carefully building his image. ( _After all, he had nearly drowned in sweat, all those summer nights, sure to wear long sleeved shirts and long, baggy pants to bed each and every night. He would not look weak now_.) He chewed on his bottom lip, tasting his own blood.

The _B_ in _Ben_ loses a curve.

“Ren,” he whispers to himself that night, nose scrunched up in confusion and in pain. Whoever his soulmate was, he just _had_ to be an inconvenience on this important night. He could not afford to look anything but his best the next morning, and yet...

Hux could not fall back asleep, even hours after the burning has stopped.

The silence of the shared chamber bothered him more than the burning.

 

* 

 

As a lieutenant, he met Phasma on the first ship he had served.

The ship had been a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer named the _Provisional._ Hux had thought it to be suiting. The ship was always arranged to be present where needed. It had been in orbit of that backwater planet that he lost his leg when he first spoke with Phasma.

She was always taller than him, broader too. Her dedication to cause struck him first, shortly followed by the light reflected by her metallic suit. She was a natural born leader and Hux gravitated towards her cool charisma, her self assurance. Even back then, the other Stormtroopers were loyal to her.

“Captain Phasma,” he said.

“Lt. Hux,” she said, tipping her helmet. It was a long while before Hux first saw her face. Those high cheekbones, those eyes that held such cleverness. Her thin lips; she always seemed to smile when off-duty. ( _And even on-duty. She was terrifying on the battlefield.)_ “It is nice to finally see the lieutenant I've heard so much about.”

Even inside the massive ship, Stormtroopers rarely shed their armor or weaponry. Phasma kept her blaster on her hip like an easy, familiar weight, something she had gotten accustomed to.

For the first time in a long while, Hux smiled.

Phasma was always observant.

Though, over the years, she noticed him favoring his right side, she never brought it up. She never once looked at him with pity in her eyes. It made Hux even more grateful for his, now lifetime, friend.

Hux was never sent out to the battlefield after the higher ups had discovered his mind was more valuable where it was, on the ship, safe.

Phasma said nothing of it.

*

 

It is through his hard effort and long hours that Hux climbs the ranks of the First order. That Supreme Leader Snoke favors him, is a common rumor. For such a young man to climb the ranks so fast... People did not like to believe it was all due to Hux's efforts and merits alone. People like _gossip._

( _It is not exactly untrue, all things considering. Admiral Hux had been_ liked _by Snoke as well_. _The fierce loyalty to the First Order that the Hux family breeds will always be useful to him and to the cause._ )

Hux is given the title General. He is so young, an achievement itself; the youngest General of the First Order, but he is completely competent and others are aware of it. He is given a new ship and a crew.

The ship is christened the _Finalizer,_ in the hope that it will help in finalize the end for the Resistance.

Captain Phasma, the first member selected by Hux, helps to pick the members of the _Finalizer_ 's crew. The Stormtroopers, all from his father's program, all adjust under General Hux's command easily enough.

Hux— _General_ Hux is satisfied with the days. They run efficiently from the start; the _Finalizer's_ productivity is a steady, constant thing that Hux wishes to improve with time. There are no unexpected costs—except for the few times his cat has escaped the room and went on little adventures, leaving hair balls in tactical locations, and even those times don't really count because there is no lasting damage.

It's around that time, Hux learns more of the Knights of Ren.

_Ren._

The same name written so plainly on the inside of his wrist.

The indignity of it all. For his soulmate, his destined one, to be one of those overgrown children that paraded about wearing long, dark cloaks and performed parlor tricks! They perform slaughters in the Supreme Leader's name. They exist outside of the First Order's rigid system, throwing more chaos into the order.

( _It seems as if whoever Hux's soulmate is, they will only bring disorder into his carefully structured life_.)

Something he is not willing to allow into his life, after all he's done to control every little aspect of his day to day routine...

Any member of the Knights of Ren would only serve to hinder Hux and his goals. Therefore, he soothes himself, his soulmate cannot be one of them. There must be someone named similarly.

After all, the universe is vast and full of life.

Hux falls asleep at his desk, papers still strewn around. His cup of caf grows cold. He's lucky Millicent has not knocked it over. Instead, the cat curls up besides his face and falls asleep as well.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Supreme Leader announces a sudden change.

General Hux was to receive a co-commander, the master of the Knights of Ren. Of all people. The most tantrum prone individual that Snoke possessed. How _fortunate_ for their budget that the good General is efficient...

They are set to receive the Knight of Ren in two week's time.

Around the ship, crew members gossip idly while following through on orders from Hux. A bedroom was to be prepared for the Knight of Ren. Along with a bedroom, he was to be given a training room. Hux learned his name as well as the orders:

_Kylo Ren._

His wrist _burns_ that night and Hux does not want to entertain the possibility that is quickly becoming a fact.

Hux abandons the prospect of sleep and snatches up his holopad. Millicent, stirring from her sleep at the foot of his bed, makes her way to him, climbing on top of his chest and curling up there. (But not before she kneads his chest and walks on him, just a bit.)

Despite her insistent meows, Hux does not abandon his work.

*

There is a humble crowd to greet the Knight of Ren when he comes aboard the ship. A few Stormtroopers, slightly behind Captain Phasma. The Captain claps him on the shoulder jovially, trying in her own way to tell Hux that everything would be fine, that he has nothing to worry about. She also knows the name written on his wrist. If she had not been wearing her helmet, Hux thinks that he would see her smirk.

( _He is not worrying about any romantic situations._

 _He is worrying for his crew. Kylo Ren is so prone to resorting to violence._ )

Close to Hux, a few lower ranked men stand, majors and colonels and another captain or two. They're all good at their jobs and relatively high up. Hux thinks that they're afraid of who they will meet.

Kylo Ren of the Knights of Ren is a little late.

He does not offer excuses as he clambers down from his ship's gangplank. He wears the long, black cloak the Knights of Ren so favor, tattered at the end. At his hip, his lightsaber is fastened. And he wears a helmet.

Hux is taken aback for a moment.

Though Phasma is wearing her helmet and so are her Stormtroopers, it is acceptable. They are the muscle, the show of power. ( _The lowest ranked ones there to welcome him._ )

His wearing a helmet feels like an insult.

“Welcome aboard the _Finalizer,_ Lord Ren,” says Hux. He lowers his head, a show of respect and of trust, slightly faked. He looks up. “We hope that you will find your room and facilities to be pleasant.”

Kylo Ren crosses over quickly, big, black boots making too much noise. It takes everything in Hux not to flinch or move away when Kylo Ren is _right_ in front of him. Hux notices that he is just a little shorter than he man. ( _He also notices the broad shoulders and the broad chest. Kylo Ren is certainly in shape._ )

His breathing is only magnified by that metallic _bucket_ he wears.

“ _General_ ,” he says, voice much deeper than Hux had imagined. “I suspect we have _much_ to talk about later.”

Stiffly, he nods.

The wrist, the mark, it's burning.

“UT-6710, please show Lord Ren to his chambers,” says Hux, finding his voice. “Dinner will be served at 19:00. Someone will be sent to retrieve you then and show you the way.”

Kylo Ren nods, just as stiffly as Hux had, before turning to follow that poor Stormtrooper.

( _This changes nothing. Business will continue as usual. Soulmarks be damned; they do not mean much in society these days_.)

*

They do not talk seriously for days.

For weeks.

Hux lets himself settle back into his neat schedule.

The others in the ship seem to also settle back into their schedules, but it does not work out so well for them. The _Finalizer_ now has a 'Kylo Ren Tantrum' fund set aside in the budget. They've started to order computer consoles and the like in bulk to receive discounts. Kylo Ren goes through them so easily with his lightsaber.

( _Hux is thankful he hasn't gone through an official._

 _Except for the few he's Force choked. And they will be okay in two to three days of rest._ )

“General,” Ren greets him. It's surprising to see him around so early. He is frightening, in that cloak and always seeming to loom over people. Hux has never seen him without that god awful helmet.

“Lord Ren,” he greets, dipping his head and intending to walk past him in the desolate hallway. He would begin his alpha shift like any other day, with a cup of caf, and make his way to the bridge. Hux will be looking through documents that have been sent to him; everyone is in search of a planet that will serve properly for Starkiller Base, a plan and a blueprint created by the General himself.

Ren reaches out and grabs Hux's arm. “ _General_ ,” he says again, more warning in his voice. His grip is not particularly tight. Hux could break it. He could run.

He stays, standing straight and still. “What is it?” he asks, impatience seeping into the words. Hux's bows furrow. Ren is ruining his schedule. And it had all been going so well.

Ren pauses.

It infuriates Hux more.

“I have meditated,” he says slowly, as if explaining something to a child. ( _It's Ren who is younger than Hux, not the other way around._ ) “I have seen a planet that will become your Starkiller. I have sent you the coordinates.”

“Thank you,” Hux says. A mere gesture of politeness he does not exactly feel. “I will be examining coordinates on the bridge if you need to speak with me again, Lord Ren.”

He means that as a dismissal.

Ren does not let go of Hux's arm. But he does move it. Ren's hand slides down Hux's arm to wrap neatly around his wrist, where _Ren_ is written. Hux is suddenly thankful for uniform regulations—long sleeved shirts, jackets, and leather gloves.

“What _are_ you doing?”

Ren doesn't say.

Hux pulls away, yanking his arm out of Kylo's grip. He keeps his eyes on the man, untrusting. They are still _alone_ in the hallway of this blasted ship. Why no Stormtrooper has passed by while on a patrol is a _suspicious thing_.

Ren takes his leave without saying anything else.

Hux is sure there was something more.

( _Kylo Ren is certainly his soulmate._

 _How dreadful._ )

*

The planet that Ren has picked is optimal for the Starkiller base.

Construction begins.

Hux wonders if Ren is smug underneath that helmet of his.

*

Everyone knows of Ren's tantrums.

Everyone on base tries to avoid them when possible, trying to keep themselves safe.

It had just been a matter of time before Ren had a tantrum in the officer's room during a meeting.

It had been the fault of some lowly lieutenant. The man had spoken too quickly, insulting Kylo Ren's search for pieces of some strange map that supposedly leads to Skywalker. Ren hasn't had any luck just yet with it. The lieutenant thought it a waste of time and resources.

Ren had not used his lightsaber this time— _thank heavens—_ but he did reach out and choke the poor man. Lieutenant Mitaka turns a strange shade of blue, all too quickly.

“Lord Ren,” hisses Hux, rising to his feet. He takes two steps forward while everyone else takes countless ones back. He wishes for Phasma. None of the officers are armed. He had thought the meeting would be _civil._  ( _How foolish of him_.) “Stand down!”

Ren drops Mitaka onto his rear and turns on Hux.

The Force seems to explode between them, sending them crashing in opposite directions. Ren hits a wall hard, collapsing onto the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Hux collides with the table, breaking it. A resounding noise fills the air. Hux is only half aware that it was not just from the collapse of the old table. Faintly, he thinks, _my leg..._

Ren rushes back to him, kneeling near the General's side.

( _Would he like to finish what he started? The Supreme Leader would not be pleased. Starkiller base is not done just yet._ )

The others hover nearby.

The officer that Ren had choked is the one to display extreme loyalty for his general. “You've done quite enough,” Lieutenant Mitaka hisses, voice already damaged by the hold. “Someone call the medbay, and Captain Phasma.”

“His leg,” says Ren. Roughly, or clumsily, at the very least, Ren checks for a break. It is the cybernetic limb that has broken, snapped completely, but Ren does not know it is not organic. Not yet. “Broken but... No blood...?”

“A prosthetic,” Hux says plainly enough, scorn making its way into his voice. “I'll need the replacement.” His head feels fuzzy as well. He likely has a concussion. “What did you _do?_ ” he hisses at Ren, wrist begging to tingle unpleasantly. He hopes Ren too feels the pain.

Too many people know now.

He cannot kill them. They're skilled. Experienced.

They trust him, all save Ren.

“The Force pushed us away from each other,” Ren answers. To Hux's satisfaction, it appears as if his helmet has been dented, if just a little bit. He snatches up Hux's arm, once again, this time removing the glove. Hux does not wince at the sudden coolness that assaults his hand.

Ren pulls Hux's sleeve down revealing the simple name written there.

_Ren._

Ren pushes back his own sleeve.

There, written in precise, neat script the name _Hux_ is written.

He hides the name just as quickly, leaving the spectators stunned. ( _Who would have guessed that General Hux did not have the soulmark erased?_ ) ( _Does the Force prevent two soulmates from hurting one another?_ ) “I will bring the General to the medbay,” Ren announces and the too loud thoughts stop.

Kylo Ren picks up his soulmate as if Hux weighed nothing. He carries Hux like some poor bride, one arm wrapped underneath Hux's arms and the other beneath the legs. The prosthetic miraculously manages to stay where it is, stuck somewhere in Hux's pant leg. ( _Perhaps that Ky-lo Ren is using his parlor tricks for good this time._ )

Major Manceen goes to say something in protest, but Ren holds up a hand. Hux feels as if he's missed something important. Manceen and the other officers of the ship look dazed, confused.

“Are you _manipulating_ my men?” huffs Hux from his position in Ren's arms. ( _It_ is _Kylo Ren's fault that Hux cannot walk on his own. He might as well take responsibility_.)

“Would you rather they keep you here until everyone on the ship discovers your two secrets, General?” asks Ren. Then, as a jab, “Should I say three? You do have an _extraordinary_ amount of affection for your cat.” Behind the helmet, Hux is sure Ren is laughing.

He does not say anything as Ren takes him out of the room, head and back buzzing with pain. The corridors are curiously absent of crew members. Probably due to the Knight's little magic tricks.

“Do not take me to the medbay,” he says suddenly, thinking of his already tarnished reputation. “Go to my chambers.”

“General, are you aware that you have a concussion?”

“Quite.”

Despite it, Hux is given what he wants; Ren carries him to Hux's room, somehow knowing the way. It does not take as long as it normally does, thinks Hux idly. It does not seem like Kylo is rushing...

Ren carries him over the threshold of the room like he would a blushing bride and deposits Hux on the bed, neatly made but not particularly noteworthy.

Ren stands there afterwards, still wearing his ridiculous cape and helmet. He almost looks awkward. He also looks just a tad menacing.It might just be the helmet _. (He could kill Hux and nobody would be the wiser.)_

Hux is already working. He sits up and pulls out a storage unit from underneath his bed, pulling it beside him. Inside is a spare cybernetic along with extra parts and tools, should anything break. It is good to be prepared.

In that moment, Millicent decides it best to greet their (somewhat _un_ welcome) guest.

She charges Ren, mewling and meowing for attention, walking in-between his legs and stepping on those heavy boots. Ren bends to pet her and then she strikes, leaping on his head and scrabbling with the helmet.

To his credit, he does not scream.

Much.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i must admit, the fic might end up longer than 3 chapters. i put the number 5 for now but I'm not sure.  
> updates will be sporadic


	3. Chapter 3

Hux lets himself sleep earlier than usual while recovering, a break in his schedule, all because of that damn Ren.

Millicent, as concerned as she can get, is mindful whenever he falls asleep, holopad in hand. She curls up besides him, a purr rumbling through her small body. Hux has fallen asleep above the comforter.

_He will catch a cold._

Lurking, as he always is, Ren drapes the General's greatcoat over his body.

_He looks so...fragile without that coat on._

*

Starkiller base is built.

The wild surge of power and utter righteousness fills Hux's bones, causes him to shiver. It's good that he constantly dresses in layers. The strange _spasm_ could be easily ignored.

He and Kylo Ren stand before the Supreme Leader within the holochamber. The disfigured creature that is Snoke sits back on his throne, almost regal, hands resting on either side of him, palms up. He looks peaceful, brow relaxed as he gives the command for the death of billions.

The destruction of the Hosnian system is inevitable. This action will have both good and bad effects, like any other action. ( _Maybe, just on a greater scale._ )

There will be a loss of possible resources. An enormous loss.

But those losses will be worth it if they manage to strike at the hearts of the Resistance, making them fear the power of the First Order. ( _Someday, someday, they will all bow. He will become Emperor. It is surely his destiny.)_

Hux begins mentally rehearsing the beginnings of a speech.

*

It becomes a disaster, as all things do when chaos wins.

Starkiller base falls to disorder. The oscillator is collapsing and _nothing_ can be done, except evacuation. Despite it all, General Hux did care for the people placed under his command.

The same day, he is tasked with the rescue of Kylo Ren.

A task, given to him directly from the Supreme Leader.

( _Had it been a trick of the hologram or had Snoke looked as if he had heard some sort of great joke? Not a typical way to react to the destruction of such a useful military base._ )

Millicent hisses unhappily within her carrier. She yowls as well, wishing to be freed from her imprisonment. ( _She cannot, of course, be freed. She'd surely die._ ) Through his gloves, Hux is cold. Truly, he is cold everywhere, breaths coming out as white puffs. His uniform, however warm, is not built for being out in these conditions for so long.

Hux is the one to find Ren first, stinging soulmark leading the way to the body.

Behind him, a few Stormtroopers that he had managed to find unharmed and loyal trudge through the snow. They're armed, just in case there are hostiles. Ren had been fighting that scavenger girl. Was he simply not strong enough to defeat her? Shameful. As far as they knew, she had no training.

He is the first one to see Kylo Ren's body.

He lies, prone, in the snow, blood spilling out of his body from two different locations. Hux thinks he is dead at first. Kylo is so pale, he easily resembles a corpse. ( _Like his sister, who had died so long ago of some strange, foreign disease. Her body had been burnt. Hux had seen it turn into ash. He thinks his sister would have enjoyed the cremation, enjoyed as her bones and toenails and ash became the only mark of her existence. Millicent, the first, would have laughed._ )

Hux shoves Millicent the cat's carrier into a trooper's arms before kneeling at Ren's side. The pain in his wrist is strong so Ren must be alive. Hux places two fingers on Ren's throat, feeling for a pulse. He sees Ren's face once again, and is still frustrated with himself.

_Now he has a reason for that foolish mask._

And of course it is lost.

“He's alive,” he announces. Snow melts and soaks Hux's knees, legs. They were already cold, now it's worse. ( _When they return to their ship, Hux will treat himself to a long, hot wash in the fresher_.)

Hux picks Ren up, slinging him over his shoulder, like he's some sack. His soulmate is heavy; Hux grunts when he accepts the weight.

He is to bring Kylo Ren to the Supreme Leader, to _finish_ his training. _How dreadful. (What do they even do while training? Meditation? More magic tricks? Hux cannot imagine it.)_

Stirring from unconsciousness, Kylo Ren lets out a pathetic noise, more of a whine than anything. ( _It makes Hux feel a pang of misplaced worry. He squashes it. He should not care for the other man just because he is Hux's soulmate, just because the Force decided it._ )

Ren reaches out a long limb, trying to grab at Hux's wrist.

“Stop that,” the General chastises. “You've done enough today. Just rest.” The words don't come out as harshly as he had intended.

Ren stills, perhaps falling into some kind of unconsciousness.

Hux hopes that he did not die just then and there on Hux's shoulder. ( _The Supreme Leader would not be pleased with him._ )

*

He does not see Kylo Ren for months. Six months, to be precise. Life on the _Finalizer_ is a bit more peaceful without him, though everyone is still grieving the loss that had been Starkiller base and the people that had died on it. A memorial had been set up in one of the _Finalizer_ 's rooms. It is small but well cared for.

“Do you know--” Phasma says during their dual workout. She does not wear her uniform in the weight-room. Instead, she wears sweatpants and a tanktop. Her short, platinum blond hair sticks to her skin with sweat. Her chest heaves as she lifts weights. “--what they call you, in the Resistance and in the neutral territories?”

“What?” says Hux.

Phasma lifts weights almost too easily. Hux is there to spot her, but he will not be needed. Phasma could easily bench-press _him._  He wears something similar to her, but he is just not as muscular. He looks a little silly standing there.

“General _Starkiller_ ,” she says, a wolfish grin on her face. “Isn't it better than General Ginger?”

Hux sighs at that. ( _He had never liked her nickname for him._ )

“Time to switch,” Phasma says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Best be prepared for the next time something goes sour. We'll never know when Lord Ren will return.”

*

Kylo Ren returns just as suddenly as he had left, just a few days after Phasma had commented on his unpredictability, as if he had heard and been offended. The Supreme Leader had not made the announcement and Ren's living quarters had not been cleaned for his arrival. It is not professional, but Hux cannot take the blame for it. He had not even been notified of the arrival of Kylo Ren's ship until it was already in the bay.

“Lord Ren,” Hux greets once Ren has stalked up to him on the bridge. “A pleasant surprise.”

Kylo wears a new robes. Surprisingly, it is not in tatters. ( _Just yet._ ) He has a new mask too. He steps even closer to Hux, getting into his personal space. Hux does not take a step back, something he is proud of.

“General,” he says. The voice modulator takes any tone out of his voice. “May we speak? In private.”

“The conference room is empty,” he says.

Ren leads the way, walking at an impressive pace. Six months ago, he would stomp around base, seeming to try to make as much noise as possible; now he could not be heard. It is almost frightening. ( _What could spur such a change?_ )

The now Sith-whatever holds the door open for the General and allows him entrance first. He closes it shut behind them and stands right in front of the door, as if blocking escape. ( _How annoying. Hux would never run from Kylo Ren._ )

“We are soulmates,” Ren announces once again, voice booming.

Hux does not look away. “Yes,” he says. “I do not find why that is relevant--”

Ren's hands shoot up. Hux freezes, suddenly thinking of his own mortality. ( _He cannot_ die _just yet, so soon after the loss of the Starkiller. He cannot die before the Starkiller II went into construction. Hux is_ not _afraid of him._ ) Ren reaches for the back of his helmet, pressing a button to allow it to open with a _hiss_.

He sets the new helmet onto the conference table somewhat gently and returns his gaze to Hux.

Realistically, not much has changed in those few months.

Ren's hair was still long and ridiculously well styled for someone who wore a helmet for the majority of time. He is pale, probably from wearing that damned bucket and cloak everywhere. His mouth is too wide for his face, something Hux would never forget, and lips too soft. His nose is crooked, as if it had been broken and fixed within those missing months.

But his eyes. Oh, his eyes. Such a lovely color—dark and deep, like the view from one of the many starports that exist throughout the _Finalizer._ His lashes are impossibly long; they cannot be real.

Ren touches his lips, as if self-conscious.

“I can hear you,” he then says.

“I did not say anything.”

Ren takes a step forward. Before Hux can move, Ren taps his forehead. “You're very loud,” he says.

“Get out of my _head,_ ” Hux snarls, taking two steps back. He then begins to pace, something that he does not usually give himself the luxury of but it is better than admitting that he had been _unnerved_.

“I am not _in_ your head,” Ren snarls right back. “You are projecting through our very _stunted_ bond.”

Hux snorts. Of course their bond was stunted; the two of them did not freely associate with one another. But they do not _need_ the bond. “What did you want to discuss, Lord Ren? You must have had a reason for this.”

“I... am not fully kept by the Dark side,” he admits. “The Light side stills calls me. You, in you, dear General, there is no room for Light. By strengthening our bond, the Light will stand no chance in its seduction.”

( _Kylo Ren killed his father to put a stop to the 'seduction' of the Light side and it had not worked. What use is this?_ )

“I see,” says Hux. He stops his pacing and faces Kylo Ren. He almost looks worried while unmasked. “So it is to your benefit alone. Why would I want to strengthen a useless bond?”

His face darkens. Ren frowns. “It is not _useless_ ,” he says. “Did you not pine for your soulmate, _Dolly?”_

Hux freezes. He had not been called that in so many years. Quietly, quietly, he repeats, “Get out of my head.”

“I am not in your head. I _remember,_ ” Ren hisses, stepping closer, towering over Hux. “When you were scared and alone and in pain, I tried to _help_ you. Then you blocked me out.

And now,” Ren says, a fierce grin on his face, “we're here.”

The fierce grin falls off, as if it had been a mask. Perhaps it was. Ren is more awkward and gawky than any grown man should be.

Hux sighs.

A defeat.

“What is it that must be done to strengthen a bond?” he asks, dreading the possible answers.

“We should spend time together,” says Ren.

( _Was serving together aboard the Finalizer not enough? How tiring._ )

“It is not enough,” says Ren, once again listening to his thoughts. ( _How rude._ ) “It is not quality time.”

( _Who is he to judge? He ruins control consoles for the fun of it._ )

Hux rolls his eyes, anticipating the damage that will be done during their 'dates.' “What is it that you suggest then, Lord Ren? Shall we go to my quarters for caf or tea?”

“Yes. Actually. That would be...productive.” Ren pauses for a moment. “Don't call me Lord Ren.”

“So what, Ren?”

It is acceptable.

“My condition,” Hux adds, later while they sit in his quarters, somewhat civil for the two of them, “is for you to teach me to shield my thoughts.” Something useful could come from the arrangement.

Hesitantly, Ren agrees to it.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

If Kylo Ren looked impatient and unhappy whenever he was forced to attend a social gathering or one of Hux's (admittedly many) speeches, then this was more extreme. He sat in one of Hux's kitchen chairs, arms crossed over his chest and one leg crossed over the other, moving one booted foot to some unheard rhythm. He kept his helmet in his lap, ready to move at any moment, frown heavy on his face.

Millicent, from her perch on the kitchen table, eyes the helmet like a shiny new toy, claws making their appearance.

“Caf or tea?” Hux asks. He has quite the collection of tea, much bigger than his collection of caf. He would rather not give Ren one of the more rare kind of teas. It'd be a while before he would have the time to stop and replenish the supplies.

For himself, he chooses a light, almost sweet, tea. Hux can smell the citrusy aroma just from the dried leaves. He definitely deserves to splurge a little today. The day had been stressful enough, but now that Ren had invited himself over, there can only be more stress.

“Does it really matter?” says Ren, painfully straightforward.

“No, not particularly,” says Hux, shifting through several small containers, looking for something he would not miss. “But it is a polite gesture to offer a drink to one's guest.” He decides for Ren, selecting a mild tea—a present from some nameless Major; and though the tea had been pricy, it was not that... _good_ for how it was priced.

He brews tea for himself first, pouring water into a heater and stopping it at an exact temperature, then for Ren, whose tea required something a little cooler.

“Such a kitchen is quite the luxury, Hux,” he says, eyes flickering towards the appliances. ( _Occasionally, Hux enjoyed cooking for himself. Phasma would enjoy those occasional moments as well. Hux often had leftovers and he did not want to gain any more weight. He rather liked his figure as it was._ ) “How is this... efficient?”

Hux places Ren's cup of tea down a little too roughly in front of him, hot beverage nearly spilling over the rim of the cup. “It is as efficient as a kitchen can be.” He thinks he deserves his little luxuries for all he has done.

Millicent leaps off of the table and pads to her food bowl. She sits, prim and polite, and then meows.

Hux turns his attention to her and then to the bowl. It's still half full with food. He shakes his head. “Greedy little thing,” he murmurs, affection for the creature all too evident. Hux picks up the bowl and shakes it before putting it back down. Then, an only then, Millicent begins to eat.

“You _claim_ to love efficiency so,” Ren says.

“That _was_ efficient,” quips Hux. ( _He did not add more food to the bowl. He simply shook it. Millicent is on a special diet anyway... She had gained too much weight after the fall of Starkiller base, when Hux just could not stop himself from giving her treats for surviving such an ordeal.)_

Hux settles into a chair of his own, crossing his legs at the ankle. He takes a sip of his tea, eyes sliding shut. Perfect.

( _Well. It would have been perfect, had Ren not opened his mouth._ )

“This... is not sweet.” Ren says it with such a look of confusion on his face, mouth twisted as if he bit into something sour. _(The drink, however, is not sour. It is mild, even bordering on sweetness. Not enough for Ren, apparently.) “_ Where is the sweetener?”

Hux stands to retrieve the little container. It was his belief that good tea did not need anything added to it. However, not all of his visitors hold the same belief. ( _A shame. The way Mitaka sweetened his tea was absolutely disgusting to watch._ ) Along with the little container, he takes a small, decorative spoon.

He passes both to Ren, who accepts them gratefully enough.

And then he nearly pours half the container into the tea, not bothering to pause to taste it. How utterly revolting... Hux had found someone who took their tea with more sweetener than Mitaka.

Hux sits again, sips at his tea. Millicent makes her way to him and jumps onto his lap, setting herself there. Already, she's purring. “Now, you promised that you would teach me. How does one block their mind from the prying eyes of others?”

Ren nearly chokes on the tea. He sets the delicate little cup back down onto the table too loudly. “Straight to business, Hux?”

“Of course,” he answers. “It doesn't matter what we do to strengthen this bond, so long as we spend time together, yes? This will work out for us both then.”

“If we must...” Kylo says it reluctantly, like it is some chore. ( _He had agreed to it. He better not back down now_.) He reaches out suddenly, stretching a hand towards Hux's face.

“What are you doing?” Hux hisses. A pressure builds right in the center of his forehead, mind numbing needles attacking his head, Ren's not-so-gentle touch to Hux's mind. “Is this your method of teaching? I am not surprised that the scavenger refused then!”

Ren puts down his hand. He scowls. “You _asked_ me to teach you.”

“Yes. Teach.” Hux says the word slowly, as if explaining to some moron. ( _Well... just maybe..._ ) “Not shove your grubby little hand in my face.”

“I find that hands on learning is best when it comes to this,” Ren says. “It is hard to explain in words just how the Force works.”

Millicent perks up and meows at that, kneading Hux's leg.

Hux pats her head, hushing her. “Try,” he says to Ren. He'd rather hear an explanation before Ren begins to rummage about his brain, especially with it feeling so uncomfortable.

Ren sighs again, rubs at his forehead, takes another gulp of the ridiculously sweet tea. “I will try to get into your mind. Try anything to stop me. Different methods work for different people.”

“Could you list a few then?” Hux asks, eyes focused on Millicent's furry little body. She's shedding again. His pants will absolutely be covered in ginger little hairs.

“Picture a wall,” Ren says, leaning forward, hair falling perfectly forward. “Impenetrable. Thick, dense. Not a sound can escape through the wall.” He pauses, the ghost of a smile making its way onto his face. “Careful Hux. It might be difficult for someone with little imagination.”

Hux rolls his eyes at that easy jab. The urge to say something biting in response dies. He scratches, offhandedly, at his wrist. “Alright,” he says, leaning forwards, towards Ren. “Let's try that again.”

*

A simple trade agreement goes wrong.

Unexpected, unanticipated.

Red hot _pain_ blossoms through his chest and through his head and everything, everything fades to soothing black. He gives himself up entirely to the void.

*

_Hux!_

Some voice, far off and away, is yelling his name. Hux wrinkles his nose. He needs his sleep... Just five more minutes... then he would--

_Hux! Damn you. Wake up!_

Ten thousand needles caress Hux's brain. His eyes snap open and he groans. Whenever he is, it is dark and filthy and even _smelly._ How deplorable. To hold him in such conditions... they do know who he is, yes?

Those pointed needles search his mind.

Slowly, brick by brick, Hux builds a wall. _Get out,_ his mind's voice a mere whisper, hoarse and tired. ( _Who dares trespass upon his private, pain-filled thoughts?)_ Blood ruins his jacket. His blood. He is still bleeding.

Hux presses his cold, shaking fingers against his chest, trying to find the wound, warm, sticky blood meeting his curious fingers.

 _Hux!_ the strange, familiar voice still shouts. _Let me in! Where are you?_

_WHERE ARE YOU?_

The yelling within Hux's skull startles him. A brick falls out from its place in the wall, followed by another and another and another and the wall falls, crumbling down, Hux powerless to stop it.

Powerless to stop the barrage.

( _His wrist aches._ )

“Stop,” he murmurs, half to himself, pressure building in his skull. He feels as if it will burst. The filthy floor is like ice against his cheek. The void looms ahead of him. He wants to drown in it.

 _You're bleeding,_ the voice tells him. He is quite aware of that fact... _Stay awake. I will find you and bring you back._

The unspoken promise of slaughtering those who had captured the untouchable General and his men was there, just under the surface. The speaker is furious for Hux. The anger and the worry are soothing; somewhere, somewhere, Dolly has someone all to himself.

Hux smiles, sleepily, sleepily, and does not listen to the voice.

*

His head leans against something warm and strong. He is wrapped in warmth and held closely to the source of the warmth, a wonderful smelling source.

He cannot manage to pry open his eyes for but a second.

 _Kylo,_ he thinks.

 _Hux,_ his foolish, foolish soulmate answers, clothing soaked with blood. Ren has wrapped him in that raggedy old cloak of his. _They shot you,_ he continues. _An old gun, practically a relic. The bullet is still within you. I will take you to medical._

Ren's voice is too loud within Hux's mind. He winces.

 _Sorry, Ren_  tells him, hands so warm through layers of cloth.

“How are my men?” Hux asks, voice raspy, like he hasn't spoken in days. He could not have survived _days_ , considering just how much he had been bleeding. ( _Those damn traders... formed an alliance with the Resistance first... He'd raze the planet if he could_.)

“Alive,” Ren answers. “You were all taken by surprise. Shameful. Some Stormtroopers should be up for commendation. I think JR-1347 killed a trader or two before being overwhelmed.”

Hux hums, pleased by that. It is good that they had not lost anyone during this failure of an agreement. He could only imagine what the Supreme Leader would have to say. Another failure. Less so than the fall of Starkiller, but...

“I should have been there,” Ren says.

( _Would Kylo Ren prefer to be the one who got shot?_ )

Then, just as the world melts away. “You're too easy to carry,” he hisses, “like you're not even here in my arms.”

In a way, he is not.

( _Long, long ago, Dolly and Millie ran together, hand in hand, smiles on little faces, sun shining through their fiery hair._

 _Long ago, the Empire fell._ )

*

Waking up is a sudden thing. His eyes open, then shut again. The room's light is harsh. It smells of antiseptics and of harsh cleanliness. There is a certain weight on his bandaged body and in his hand.

“Kylo,” he groans, throat so terribly dry.

“You're awake.” Kylo Ren is not wearing his mask. He must have started the medical personnel, coming out of nowhere, covering in blood, and carrying an unconscious Hux. His hair is very nearly flat and sticks to his face. “I'll call a medic.”

Hux tightens his hold on Ren's hand, looking at it curiously. “How long were you here?”

Ren's cheeks redden, bringing some color to that awfully pasty face. “I didn't leave your side,” he answers. Then, quietly, the Force prickling Hux's mind, _when you were shot, I felt it. I thought I would die from the pain of it._

_Always dramatic, aren't we Ren?_

Ren squeezes his hand. “You are not allowed to die. I forbid it.” _Not until your Darkness tears me away from the Light for good._

Hux is not quite sure if that will ever happen. “How long was I unconscious?” he asks, voice so quiet, it was almost a whisper.

“Two days,” answers Ren. “You were not missing too long.” His eyes trace the letters of his own name, written so plainly on the inside of Hux's wrist, exposed. “It guided me to you.”

A smile comes too easily to Hux—too easily, the work of pain killers. “I see some use has come of it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is [here](http://www.moonmountainman.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

Bacta is applied to the General's wounds periodically for two whole days. He does not stay in medical very long, finding those forty-eight additional hours to be mind-numbingly boring. Instead, Hux has himself let out early. ( _Ah, the privileges of being so high up. He cannot be seen, looking so terribly weak._ )

“You are mad,” Ren hisses in his ear as he helps Hux to his quarters. Hux had not asked for this, arm slung across Ren's broad shoulders and head tilting towards the ground, feet very nearly scraping against the ground. “You know this, yes? The medics said you need bed-rest.”

Hux had not asked for his help; Ren had _volunteered_ to help take him back to his room _._

“I will rest,” says Hux, “but from my quarters.” He does not mention how he can attempt to get work done on his holopad during this brief recovery.

Ren, however, still manages to hear this, Hux's drugged thoughts all too loud. “I know you. You do not rest nearly enough.” _You're always awake,_ Ren whispers into his mind, mind's voice laced—if only faintly—with concern and something Hux cannot quite identify. _I've begun to think that you would not sleep if it were not a necessity._

Hux scoffs, nearly tripping over his booted feet. He shivers, so cold. The greatcoat had been ruined, bullet tearing a hole through it and his blood staining it. It had been discarded of and Hux did not get the chance to order a new one just yet. (Ren _'s cloak had been soaked in blood as well, but he still wore it_. _It's beginning to look like some primitive world's method of staunching wounds._ )

“I will stay with you, General,” Ren says, so softly, so slowly, like he is trying to play a mind trick on the General. The Force works in mysterious ways. Ren's seductive words don't have their wanted effect.

“That is not necessary, Lord Ren.”

There is no one in the hall that leads to the General's rooms. Ren had made sure of it, distracting their minds through careful manipulation of the Force. No one is around to hear another of their petty arguments... (Security will find footage from several cameras to be mysteriously deleted that day and will absolutely not question this whatsoever.)

“Oh, but I think it is.” His voice is flat through the helmet, having a strange metallic quality.

Ren reaches out with a hair thin thread of the Force, touching Hux's mind as gently as he knows how. ( _It still stings, a needle inserting itself where it did not belong because Kylo Ren does not quite know what <gentle> is._) Ren hesitates even, only allowing himself to briefly skim Hux's thoughts.

“Those traders have been punished accordingly,” Ren informs him. _Executed,_ he clarifies. _They had been meaning to torture you for information once you woke up. They should not have shot you so close to your heart then. You nearly died._

Still, Hux feels as if he is only telling half-truths.

His quarters had never felt so far before.

Ren takes more of his weight, practically carrying him right there. “I could pick you up, you know.” _You weigh nothing Hux. It would be so easy to break you._

“But you won't,” he says, eyes at half-mast. His mind is heavy, swimming in the haze of medication. Hux sways in Ren's arms.

 

*

Millicent makes herself comfortable next to Hux on the bed. He reclines, holding his holopad above him, seeing if any more trade deals can be arranged to get those supplies that are so desperately needed. His eyes string from the bright light but... there were... still more things... to do...

His eyes snap open.

He had fallen asleep once again.

Millicent, from her curled up position next to his bandaged chest, purrs so loudly she sounds like a little engine. Hux pats her, absentmindedly. The purring only grew louder, if possible.

“You really should rest,” says Ren. He had just showered. A towel rests on his head as he dries his non-regulation hair. He's already changed into his pajamas, black silken things that did not look too warm.

“I am resting,” says Hux.

“Sleep.” Ren rubs his head, patting that ridiculous hair of his. His dark eyes look almost amber in the light. “Sleep then, Hux.”

He rolls his eyes. “You do not give orders to me.”

The bed shifts under Ren's weight. He has moved a good amount of his belongings to Hux's room. ( _For the time being, Kylo had said. His grandfather's molten helmet, sitting in some dusty corner of the room, begs to differ._ )

“It's so cold in your room,” Ren says, moving close to Hux, having tossed that wet towel somewhere on the ground. Despite it all, his body is so much warmer. “How can you survive it?” _You looked so warm in that coat of yours, all bundled up._ A pang of regret for all that had been lost.

Millicent mewls, pawing at Ren, who has invaded her place. She then decides this injustice would not do and stands up on the bed. Millicent climbs over Hux, little paws digging into his bandages. Hux winces, but says nothing. Millicent does not know what she is doing; she is just an innocent cat.

Ren reaches out, placing a hand over Hux's chest. He does not touch the thin layer of bandages that cover that thin chest, just underneath his measly tanktop. Instead, his hand hovers. His face freezes, concerned expression melting away.

“This means nothing,” he says, so loud in the quiet of their room.

“Of course.”

Hux places the holopad down onto his bedstand. His eyes have been watering for a while now, begging for him for sleep. Before resting, however, he needs to preform daily maintenance on his leg—something he had not been able to do while resting in the medbay. It had been _too_ long and he could not risk the prosthetic anymore.

He sits up, pulling his toolset from underneath his bed, right where the spare cybernetic is stored.

Ren stares, examining each and every move. His brows furrow strangely. He makes such a funny face when concentrating.

“Sorry,” Kylo says once he is caught for the second time. Still, he does not look away. His expression, if anything, becomes more intense. “How often do you do repair work on your cybernetic?”

“Rarely,” says Hux. “This is just maintenance, to prevent the leg from actually needing repairs.”

Ren hums, almost appreciatively at Hux's dexterous hands. (His long, delicate fingers—those same hands that had slaughtered billions—looked as if they belonged to a musician.) “My grandfather had people to do this for him.”

Hux scowls, not looking up from his work. “Must you always bring up your grandfather?” It is done. He puts away the tools and reclines, not bothering to pull down his pantsleg.

He feels the ghost of a touch on his knee and cracks open one eye. “Kylo?”

The pantsleg is pulled down neatly over his leg, no hands needed, no energy expended.

“It bothered me,” Ren explains, an afterthought. “Now move, so that I can cover you.”

The blanket too moves, possessed by the force, up to Hux's narrow shoulders before falling back down, lifelessly.

 

*

( _Her body had been cremated, ashes scattered._

_He had nothing left of her._

_His father's hand was heavy on his shoulder._ )

 

*

Kylo's hand is heavy on his head.

His head rests on something warm, too warm, Kylo's shoulder. He's surrounded by warmth. Hux pries his eyes open, eyes meeting another's. “How long have you been staring?” Hux asks, voice thick with sleep.

Kylo blinks. “Your dreams are so loud,” he whispers, as if afraid to break something sacred. His hand is tangled in Hux's loose hair, careful not to pull. Their bodies are tangled together.

On Hux's other side, Millicent presses in close, still dreaming whatever a cat may dream. Probably about food or finally capturing Kylo's helmet as her own.

“Everything about you is loud,” Kylo continues, petting Hux so gently. It was almost frightening. This Kylo Ren is unpredictable. ( _Well... more unpredictable._ )

Hux bristles, sitting up. “What are you doing, Kylo?” he says, rubbing at his eyes. There is no anger; that emotion dies on his tongue. The bandages need to be changed. Ren sees as well.

“Stay here,” Ren says, clambering out of the bed. His pajamas are low on his hips; Hux's eyes follow, seeing that the moles on his face clearly continued down his body.

“You're being uncharacteristically mothering,” says Hux. “What is with you? Do you have a fever?” He leans against his pillows, using them to support his weight.

Ren releases a bark of laughter, echoing off the bathroom walls. He rummages through Hux's first aid cabinet, finally finding extra bacta bandages. “You are my soulmate. Does it not make sense that I take care of you?” _You are easier to get along with_ _when you are heavily medicated,_ Ren informs him _. More entertaining too._

Hux shakes his head, already tired and they day had yet to begin.

Ren sits at the edge of the bed, bandages in hand. He places them onto the bedside table. “Old bandages,” he says simply. Waiting. _Lean forward. I will help you remove them._

And so he does.

The bedroom could not be more quiet. Ren is surprisingly efficient with the bandages, carefully wrapping Hux's wound, fingers just grazing Hux's skin.

Ren seems to be unable to stand the silence. “Why did you refuse bacta tank immersion?”

( _It would have been faster but Hux cannot stand to be unconscious for so long. So much work would pile up... At least he can run the Finalizer somewhat from his bed._ )

Kylo sighs, his question answered. He looks to Millicent who is still peacefully asleep, her tail twitching as she dreams. “I think I have a new favorite ginger.”

Hux rolls his eyes. ( _Had he been Ren's favorite ginger previously?_ )

*

 

It is nearly a week before the medics declare him fit enough to return to the bridge. However, it is advised that he does not exert himself too much. Hux's wounds can easily become aggravated and open, once again.

Kylo Ren had been separated from him. The Supreme Leader had assigned him and several of the Knights of Ren a mission in the dead of night. Kylo Ren had left in those early hours, bumbling about Hux's room. He hadn't taken his cloak, leaving the bloody rag on top of Hux. Hux had awoken, clutching the cloth for all it was worth, face practically buried in that thing, as if trying to memorize Kylo Ren's scent mixed in with his own.

Hux had dressed, washed, and left his room in a quick manner—like he had never been injured in the first place—leaving the cloak to Millicent's greedy paws. The only proof of his time away from the bridge had been his missing greatcoat. ( _He had yet to have it replaced. The halls of the Finalizer were oh so cold but he suppressed a shiver._ )

“Good morning General,” greets the Captain. She stands straight and proud in her gleaming chrome armor, truly the picture of a great warrior. “It's good to see you on your feet again.” Hux can only imagine the feral grin hidden by that helmet of hers.

“Nice to see you as well, Captain Phasma.”

Already, he is tired. Hux does not let it show, remaining stiff-backed for at least all of the alpha shift. Hux would take a seat for some of beta shift as he worked on his holopad, shifting through the enormous amount of paperwork the First Order generated.

He sighs, mind wandering for a brief moment.

His wrist tingles.

Hux feels as if a storm is coming.

 

*

He is hit with a wave of pain so potent and so bitter, he nearly collapses where he stands on the bridge.

It is only thanks to the reassuring presence of Captain Phasma that Hux does not fall. She rushes to his side, placing an arm around his waist. “Sir?” Phasma says. “Permission to speak?”

His right hand feels as if it's been cut off. It burns and stings and something is _kriffing wrong_ with Ren.

“Yes,” he says, voice hoarse, already going through the possible scenerios.

“You should have stayed on bedrest,” Phasma whispers to him, voice hushed even through the helmet. Her armored arm feels wrong around him; though it is supporting, it is not the arm he wants.

Hux shakes his head. He gathers himself and stands fully once again. “What is the mission that Lord Ren has been assigned?” he asks. Hux's hair has fallen from its carefully styled mass.

“Sir...” says Phasma, low in her throat. She must think he has lost his mind, but Hux is certain that this pain is not entirely his. Kylo Ren, somewhere, is injured once again.

“Phas,” he says, looking her where her eyes would be. He lifts his left arm, tugging at his sleeve, revealing that name: _Ren,_ once again _._ Phasma had known, of course, but she still takes a step back then, still unbelieving that he hadn't had the mark removed like most other officers. “He must be injured.” ( _That fool! Is he lying on some desolate planet, dying, once more? Hux cannot keep coming to his rescue!_ )

“Lord Ren and his Knights of Ren have been given with the honor of finding and disposing of the scavenger girl and Luke Skywalker,” says Phasma. “The Supreme Leader has put out orders for their deaths.”  
  
“Something's gone wrong then,” he tells her, world spinning underneath him. But there really is nothing that they can do from the bridge of the _Finalizer_. Kylo Ren, being a grown man who had slaughtered before, and in great numbers, has to be capable of taking care of himself despite the mind numbing pain.

Still, right hand working less than optimally, Hux sets to work.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is ending up much longer than I had originally anticipated, but I really do enjoy writing it. I will be writing a fic for the Kylux big bang too. Find me @ my tumblr [here](http://www.moonmountainman.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for loss of limbs, not too graphic  
> also, the rating went up just a little. nothing too steamy.

Seething, gnawing on his lower lip, General Hux does manage to find the Knights of Ren and to send backup, shivering furiously the whole time.

Captain Phasma stays by his side as the world twists and turns through this lens of pain. He might be punished for the order later, but he does not mind in the moment. If he had not been executed for the failure of the Starkiller, he will not be executed for this. The Supreme Leader would have been foolish to do so.

His lips quirk up once the order has been executed fully.

Shortly after, he falls asleep, almost right in his seat. ( _Anyone else would have called it_ 'fainting.' _Thank the Force itself for Phasma._ )

*

 

Ren returns to the ship, almost frothing at the mouth. His right hand is missing, cut off at the wrist by either that damn uncle of his or that scavenger girl. At least the wound no longer bleeds. It probably has been cauterized.

“Lord Ren,” Hux greets him, taking Ren's side. Several of the other Knights of Ren surround them; all cloaked, all helmeted, all hulking behemoths. Ren seems to have lost his own helmet once again.

“General,” he all but moans, clutching at the stump. “It looks as if we will match.” _Where did you get your cybernetic? I will require something similar. Perhaps something lighter than your leg, a different material then?_ Even his mind's voice is strained with pain, almost delirious with it.

 _I will send you links about the company via holopad,_ Hux informs him, not wanting to say so aloud. _Who did this to you?_ he asks. It is not like he has many choices to guess from.

With four Knights of Ren surrounding them, it almost felt as if they had an armed guard. Hux had never truly met the other Knights; he suspects he never will have formal introductions done. It is simply not their way.

 _The scavenger girl,_ Ren tells him after a moment.

_Did you at least strike her back for that?_

Ren does not answer that. A _no_ then, Hux would guess.

The medical bay is already in a state of chaos when they walk in.

Kylo Ren refuses to be sedated as he is treated, eyes rolling back in his head through the pain of it all. Whites of his eyes tinged by red, too wild, too angry. He grits his teeth until he is told he might break them.

Hux stays by his side all the while.

Ren falls asleep on his own after the first round of treatment. Hux allows himself to touch Ren's forehead, to see if that insufferable man had a fever.

And, Hux finds, he does not.

His hand finds its way to Ren's thick, soft hair and plays with the strands gently, a soft expression making its way to his face. (The Stormtrooper that sees this is immediately send for reconditioning.)

 

*

 

The hand that Ren has had made for himself resembles the design used for Hux's prosthetic leg. Both are simple things, designed to suit a brutal schedule and to be functional on a battleground. Thankfully—thanks, to what Hux did not know, perhaps the _Force_ itself, once again—it had just been the right hand. (He eyes that mark on Ren's hand when he thinks Ren is not paying attention.)

“Do you like it?” Ren asks, holding his hand up to the artificial light. It is functional, highly so. The black metal nearly glitters, like Ren's eyes caught by the light of the stars. Ren's fighting with the lightsaber did not suffer in the slightest. He lies on Hux's bed, shirt gone. Hux finds him losing his shirt more and more often, especially within the confines of his room.

( _Those rumors Ren had started himself were true. He did actually have an eight-pack._ )

“Me?” Hux snorts, breath leaving his nose softly. He looks up and away from his work, setting down his holopad on his desk, straightening his hunched back. “It doesn't matter what I think. The cybernetic works, yes?”

Millicent bats at a toy, amusing herself by Hux's stiff-backed chair, for the moment. The toy had been a gift from Ren, who had bought it while having the hand made. An apology for losing his second helmet, Millicent's favorite toy.

Ren grunts. He does not seem too pleased by the answer. He pauses, wanting to say something but unsure of just how to do it. Hux can feel his confusion through their connection. Ren's stomach twists and turns.

“Out with it,” he says, more softly than he had intended.

Ren stands, bed creaking at his sudden movement, and moves to Hux's side. Millicent moves out of the way, startled by how fast Ren seemed to move. Hux's eyes meet the hard flesh of Ren's toned stomach. “I want...” he growls, then stops himself, thinks once again. “Can I...?” Then, decisively, he leans down without another word. The kiss is surprisingly chaste and even borders on hesitant.

Ren looks at him expectantly after he pulls away, emotions so easy to read on his face. First delight. Then doubt. Finally, Ren attempts to hide it all.

Hux's fingers—those traitors—rush to his lips, feeling where they had met Ren's. (They're red, like fresh blood. Ren can't look away from them.)

“Did you like it?” Ren's voice comes out harsh. His gaze is adverted. His face and neck flush.

Hux does not say anything; he is too stunned to say anything. His face grows hot. ( _They were soulmates... it shouldn't be too odd, too out of place, that they shared a kiss. Still, his heart feels like a traitor. All of him is betraying him. He wonders, idly, if he should be sent for reconditioning._ )

Ren probes his mind, that needle that sticks itself into Hux's brain, as gently as it can—and only just a tad more gently than it had ever managed before. Maybe he has learned.

When Ren withdraws his presence, he has a pleased smile on his face, eyes twinkling with such warmth.

( _Oh no, General. What_ have _you gotten yourself into?_ )

“And now, _General_ ,” Ren says, “I think it is time for you to go to sleep.”

Not even under pain of torture, Hux tells himself while lying in the shared bed, would he admit that it is much easier to fall asleep while surrounded by Ren's ridiculous warmth.

 

*

 

Phasma runs at an easy pace, slowing, just slightly, so that her General could follow without becoming too out of breath. Her short hair has been pulled up into a short ponytail that bobbed with each step. Sweat rolls down her forehead. Her lips are pulled into a wolfish grin.

“Looks as if you slept well last night General Ginger,” Phasma says, nowhere near innocently. There is a considerable gap between the two officers and the Stormtroopers; whether it was due to respect for both Phasma and Hux or due to their height advantage, Hux was not so sure. Perhaps even a mix of the two.

“Yes,” he says, not admitting to anything. He had even felt energetic when he woke up, a first in a long while.

But the look in Phasma's eyes tells him she's already made the assumption. Lowly, almost conspiratorially, Phasma says, “Do you enjoy having someone to warm your bed at night?”

Hux scowls and runs at a faster pace. His cheeks and ears turn pink and he cannot hide it. Either way, once Phasma has made an assumption about his personal life, it is incredibly difficult to convince her otherwise.

Phasma keeps up with him easily, not even a little out of breath. The way her muscular thighs flex and push will surely find her new suitors from the Stormtroopers; Phasma had already been eyeing one of them, a pretty woman with eyes like icy storms and hair as dark as the galaxies. Her body is also powerfully built; the woman, JJ-0498, is exactly Phasma's type. And with the way the 'trooper often looked at her superior, Hux is certain they will do perform non-regulation activities one of these days.

“Still, you do not deny it,” Phasma teases, grin almost obscene.

One of these days, she will be court-marshaled.

*

 

Despite complaining of Phasma's possible future conquests, it seems as if Hux will have one of his own first. Hux had truly believed that they would do _something_ on that creaky bed of his—well, until Ren opened his mouth.

“Show me,” says Ren, deep, dark eyes glittering with childish glee, “how do you take off your leg?”

It is not very romantic—or even sensual, at the very least—and it is not something Hux would wish to discuss before they have sex as some _strange_ kind of foreplay, but Ren appears determined. His big, warm hands caress Hux's leg, right where human flesh meets smooth metal. One hand is calloused, the other is of smooth, warm metal. Hux shivers underneath Ren's attention. The bigger man sits between Hux's legs, fully dressed, excepted for the boots that have been abandoned somewhere near the entrance to Hux's room.

( _It should be called_ their _room. Kylo is rarely in his own chamber._ )

“Please,” adds Ren, knowing just how much Hux enjoys hearing it from him.

Hux sighs, as if it is a great undertaking for him. Using the Force, Ren shifts the pillows, helping Hux to sit up. He's surrounded by warmth, by his soulmate. He should not feel the wave of apprehension, but he does. The prosthetic has been his crutch for the majority of his life. _What if Kylo takes it and runs?_ what's left of Dolly can't help but wonder. _That would be a nasty trick..._

 _You're projecting again, Ren_ says, right in Hux's mind. He cups Hux's cheek, impossibly gently, projecting assurances that _no,_ he will not leave with the leg and _yes, Hux is safe with him._

Hux shows him then.

How easily the cybernetic leg can come off, leaving Hux with only a stump of a leg. Ren examines the prosthetic and Hux watches.

He wrinkles his nose. “Pretty heavy,” he says. Then, as if to prove a point, Ren lifts the leg up and down.

“It cannot be more heavy than an actual flesh-and-blood leg,” says Hux. “It cannot be made of heavier material than that hand of yours.” He does not bother to sit up properly, to rip the prosthetic out of Ren's hands. The man looks as if he is thinking. _Rare,_ Hux quips mentally.

“Darth Vader was rebuilt with cybernetic parts,” Ren says, as if offering up some wisdom, not looking away from the leg.

Hux rolls his eyes. He did not wish to hear of Ren's deceased grandfather, especially while he is half-naked and half-hard. The foreplay gets increasingly awkward. “Your uncle has a cybernetic hand,” he says, pulling that memory from Ren's mind. ( _Like you, Kylo._ ) The bond has its uses. ( _If only to tease Kylo_.)

Ren freezes and looks at him curiously. He sets the leg to Hux's side before leaning close, practically bringing them nose to nose. “Funny,” he says, voice deep and throaty. Hux bites back a moan just from the sound of it. Kylo leans back, retrieving the leg. “How does it reattach?”

Just as easily as it detaches, Ren finds.

“Yes, that isn't too safe,” says Ren. He wants to tinker with it, Hux can hear. Thinks he can make it better. Make it more difficult to forcibly detach. Ren knows of Hux's fears, though he hadn't voiced them, and is trying to alleviate them in his own way.

( _He could always lose the other leg. No amount of fretting and monitoring and_ babying _from his soulmate could change that._ )

Hux wraps his legs around Ren's narrow hips. “Are you done with that now?” he asks. He had meant to say it with a hint of boredom. It comes across as just curious, almost needy.

Ren leans down, kissing Hux's lips. He can be so curiously careful, as if he had learned. Hux had not thought it possible, after seeing so many computer consoles destroyed by his soulmate. Ren is so warm. Hux's hands stray to Ren's clothed chest, tracing over where Hux _knows_ those muscles are hidden. ( _An actual eight-pack. How utterly ludicrous. Hux almost feels giddy at the thought.)_

Quickly, with more tenderness than thought possible, the two embraced late into that night.

Phasma would surely have something to gloat about during the day's alpha shift.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! hope this fic has been as much fun to read as it had been fun to write.

**Author's Note:**

> this should have 3-5 chapters, all roughly the same length or a little longer. kylo will appear next chapter. thanks for reading!


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